


A Particularly Pushy Dog

by quicksparrows



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 19:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6484138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no arguing with Jacob when he's in your lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Particularly Pushy Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Another from back in November.

Evie's barely left the train and Jacob gets right down to mischief.

Ned scoffs as Jacob pushes the newspaper out of his hands and physically inserts himself into that same space. There are times where Jacob is like a particularly pushy dog, or, given the size of him, a particularly headstrong cart horse. Ned's poor newspaper ends up with a sizable crease in the spine from Jacob's fist, but really, how could he complain? It's barely two pennies for a new one, and there's no arguing with Jacob when he's in your lap.

"Have you bathed recently?" Ned asks, aloof as he can muster with nearly two hundred pounds of Jacob (plus heavy coat and gear) straddling his thighs.

"That's a new one," Jacob says, and he reaches for Ned's face with both hands at once. Ned lets him — he'll put up with a certain degree of manhandling from lovers when it suits him, and Jacob will always make up for it later. Jacob continues: "How handsome you are today! Do you prim yourself up just for me?"

"No," Ned says bluntly, but he's the one who leans into Jacob's palms. They're warm, callused, broad. Still, Ned likes to keep up a degree of professionalism, so Ned moves his hands to Jacob's wrists. "Will you unhand me? Christ, Jacob, you're like an animal."

"Not just yet," Jacob says, and he leans in for a kiss, which Ned appreciates, though he'll never admit it. (Jacob will cackle about it from the rooftops for both of them, anyhow.) Jacob tastes of scotch and cigars, and under that is what Ned just knows as purely Jacob: warm and enthusiastic and somehow a little addicting. 

Ned wouldn't generally consider himself the sort that cares much for these man's man types with swagger in their walks and controlled by impulse and impudence alike, but with Jacob's mouth hard and thumbs firm across his cheekbones, it's hard not to like it.

But he has an image, too.

"My knees are going numb," Ned says, abruptly. "Off."

"Are you going to sit on _my_ lap?"

"You go hire some Molly if you want someone to sit on your lap and coo over you," Ned says.

"Then I'm here to stay," Jacob says.

"You're a goddamned pain," Ned says, but he's the one who pulls Jacob into another kiss. 


End file.
